A pound for a second-hand book in a charity coffee shop, and a faint, amazing smell that got stronger with every chapter. On page 112, I found out why.
I paid a pound for the book in the charity coffee shop. The smell came free.
In chapter two, at a table by the window, I caught something. Very faint, but amazing. There for a second, then gone.
Where was it coming from? My coffee? The rail of donated coats behind me? I sniffed my cup. I sniffed my sleeve. I tried, discreetly, to sniff the book.
It got stronger as I read. At page 112, a perfume tester strip slid onto my lap. In biro, someone had written 'this one?'
It smelled like a room someone has just walked out of.
I had questions. Why stop at 112? Maybe they got bored. Maybe the bus got to their stop. Maybe they found out how it ended on the telly.
And who were they asking? Did they buy it? I decided they did.
I kept their strip as my bookmark. Every time I opened the book, there it was again.
Page 113 is where it finally gets good. They missed it by one page.
I finished it on Sunday and put it back on the same shelf with two strips inside. Theirs at page 112. Mine, with a dab of my own, at the last page.
So the next person catches something faint and amazing, and keeps reading.